Mistaken Identity
by amalin06
Summary: Tom Riddle once said that Harry was identical to him. What if he was? What if he led the same life as Tom? This story is about Nature vs. Nurture. Can Harry overcome the trials that Tom wasn't able to, or will he succomb to the same darkness? ON HOLD
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Mrs. Cole woke up to a weariness in her bones that she believed was from her age and the weather. After all it was November 2. At her age she was lucky she could still care for herself and the orphans that lived in her orphanage. Stonewell Orphanage once upon a time only catered to boys and only till the age of 14. That all changed in 1942 when for some reason or another the board all of a sudden changed their minds and made it at the age of 17. She never understood why, but she didn't dwell on it.

Mrs. Cole wrapped her robe around her frail aging body. She walked slowly down the stairs to get the milk for the children from the front door and she went to turn around and go back inside when she heard a whimper. She looked down and noticed a child wrapped in a blanket on the porch. She sighed. Another one. She picked up the child and went inside to summon her assistant.

Martha wasn't as young as she used to be. When she first started working at the orphanage she was only 15. Now at almost 50 she was surprised that she was still working here. But she couldn't just leave Mrs. Cole to take care of all the children by herself. So when she came down in the morning of November 2, 1981, she wasn't expecting to see Mrs. Cole looking like she seen a ghost.

Martha ran over to her and her eye's skimmed over Mrs. Cole to make sure that every thing was alright. She seemed fine, so Martha put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips.

"What do you think your doing giving me a heart attack like that. I thought something terribly wrong happened."

Mrs. Cole said nothing just pointed to a bassinet in the corner of the room. Martha sighed and walked over to the bassinet and peered in it. Her eyes met the most startling green eyes she had ever seen. No. She had only seen them once before and that is an experience she would never forget.

_Martha had just started working at the orphanage. She was wiping down the tables when she heard a scream. She dropped the rag in the bucket and ran up the stairs. She came upon Billy Stubbs sobbing hysterically and staring at the ceiling. Martha's eyes followed his line of site and she let out a gasp. There was his pet rabbit hanging from the rafters. She looked around for someone who would do such a thing. All the children had their heads bowed as if in memorial for the dead rabbit. All but one. Her eyes met startling green eyes. They had a glint in them that promised pain if ever attacked or provoked. It sent shivers down her spine._

Now she was staring in the same eyes. She took in the face of this toddler. Wild black hair, green eyes, his face still had his baby fat on it but when it was lost, he would have a perfectly chiseled face. She felt like she had gone back in time 40 years. She turned and looked at Mrs. Cole.

"Do you...do you think they are related?" She asked knowing the elderly lady would know who she was talking about.

Mrs. Cole took a deep breath and released it, as if trying to compose herself.

"It's a high possibility. I never thought I would see eyes like that again in my life and I am 82 years old. It seems strange that he should end up here when his relative was here also. He is probably the son or grandson. There was no note, or anything with him. We will have to name him."

Martha nodded and glanced back at the child who seemed to adult for one so young.

"Timothy Marvin....... New Birthday November 2, 1980. I guess he is about a year and a half. So we'll say he is two. He is intelligent enough."

Mrs. Cole walked slowly over to the newly christened Timothy. He stared at her as it he was looking into her soul.

"Well, Timothy. I hope you have a better time here than your predecessor. Welcome home Timothy Marvin Riddle. May God have mercy on our souls."

* * *

**So how do you like it? Should I continue? I really like where this is going. I just need to figure out who is going to come and introduce 'Timothy' to the wizardly world. Any ideas? I was planning on Sinestra, so MaGonagal can be surprised when she calls is name. I figured Dumbledore is Headmaster so he has better things to do than to go pick up 'muggleborns'. So let me know if you wish for me to continue and I'll put this on my high priorities list.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Albus Dumbledor sat at his place at the head table staring at several stacks of folders. They were the new muggleborn students. There were 6 this year. He waited till the staff had sat down before clearing his throat.

"Now as you know, the letters went out last week. What you don't know is this year is a very special year." He paused for effect. "Harry Potter is starting his first year this year."

Whispers broke out among the staff.

"Now. There is a little problem with Mr. Potters letters. He doesn't seem to be getting them. I wrote them personally and they all came back unopened. So, Hagrid, could you please go and hand Harry his letter?"

"It would be an honor, Headmaster, Sir." Hagrid said still blowing his nose. He got up and left to do his job.

"Good, now that that is out of the way, I have six new students who need someone to explain things to. So, Charity, Bathshelba, Kettleburn, Minerva, Aurora, and Septima if you please come up and take a folder, it will have the address and letters of the muggleborn students for this year. Quireness, I would have sent you but since you are moving from Muggle studies professor to the new defense teacher, I figured you would need the extra time to get set up. Now, that that's all settled does anyone have anything to report or any questions?"

For the next half an hour the professors discussed the new school year. Just as everyone was getting ready to get up to leave Hagrid stormed back in to the Great Hall.

"Their not there Headmaster. Their gone. I interviewed a few of the neighbors and they said that the Dursleys haven't lived there for more than ten years. One day they just packed up and left."

"Did they say when?"

"They....they said.... it was the beginning of November in 81'"

"This is not good."

Snape sneered, "Potter isn't even here yet and he's already causing trouble, just like his father."

"That's enough, Severus. In fact, I'll need you to go into Muggle London and search for him. Your _career_ is useful for this. Please make sure you leave no stone unturned."

"As you wish." Snape growled and turned and left.

Dumbledor sighed. "Please go on with what you were doing. We shall wait till the first and see he shows up. I don't want the Ministry to get wind of this."

Timothy waited with the rest of the first year students for the sorting. He couldn't believe he was here. He always knew he was different. God, knows the rest of the kids at the orphanage told him enough. The doors opened and the professor that introduced herself as McGonagall walked in.

"Follow me, please." She turned on her heel and walked into a massive room.

Timothy looked around at all the students looking at them. He straightened his back and lifted his head up high. If he wasn't so used to keeping his face emotionless, he would have been gaping at the ceiling. It was beautiful. It showed the night sky and all the stars. He felt like he was home.

They came to a stop in front of an old stool with an even older hat on it. He sneered. They expected them to actually wear that thing? Preposterous. He guessed he wouldn't have a choice though. The hat opened up and sung a song. The the professor lifted up a list and started reading from it.

"Abbot, Hannah"

A small girl walked up and sat on the stool. The hat contemplated for a moment before yelling out Hufflepuff.

Then,

Bones, Susan...Hufflepuff

Boot, Terry....Ravenclaw

Brocklehurst, Mandy....Ravenclaw

Brown, Lavender....Gryffindor

Bulstrode, Millicent...Slytherin

Crabbe, Vincent....Slytherin

and so on till they came to the P's.

Potter, Harry...... Everyone was silent and looking and waiting. Nothing happened. She sighed and moved down the list. Everyone was still whispering. Timothy wondered who this Potter person was to be so famous. Then he noticed they were getting to the R's. He watched Professor McGonagall's face turn white and she dropped the list. He frowned. She then turned to what he guessed was the Headmaster. He nodded for her to go on, but the twinkle that looked like it was always present was dimmed. She picked back up the list and opened her mouth.

"Ri....Riddle, Timothy"

Crash. Dumbledor dropped his goblet he was drinking, and a Giant dude looked like someone had just killed his puppy. A man wearing a turban snapped his head around and stared at him like he was trying to see through him.

Timothy walked through the crowd that was staring at him wondering why the professors were acting so strange to his name. He sat on the stool and the Hat was lowered on his head.

"_Hmmm.. I haven't seen a mind like yours in almost fifty years..Riddle, you say. Well now that explains it. We had a Riddle here about then. You are almost the exact duplicate of him. Lets see, you are brave and courageous, you have to be with what you have gone through, you have an intelligent mind too. You are loyal though only to yourself. You have a thirst to prove yourself. To raise above those who have beat you down. Yes, you could be great.. very great... Well, then it better be.....SLYTHERIN!_

Timothy got off the stool and walked over to the table that was green and silver and sat down next to a blond haired boy.

"Your name sounds familiar...have we met before?" the blond haired boy asked him.

Timothy turned to him and raised one eyebrow. "No. I don't think we have. I would have remembered."

That night he lied in bed thinking about the very strange day he had. He felt something slide over his stomach and glanced down to see his pet snake. He found her in the pet store in Diagon Alley. Some children were poking her. He rescued her and named her Amica. Which is Friend in Latin. She was his only friend. The only one he could trust. One day he would show those kids. He would show them not to mess with someone like him. Yes, one day.

Dumbledor called an emergency staff meeting.

"Dumbledor, you can't let that boy in here. He will kill everyone!" Hagrid shouted.

"That's enough, Hagrid. Please calm yourself. We know nothing of the boy." He sighed and popped a Lemon drop in his mouth.

"Who was it that introduced Mr. Riddle to our world?" Dumbledor asked his staff. A plump woman stood up shakily.

"I did."

"Ah, Charity. What was your impression of this young man. What was his reaction to Diagon Alley? Where did he come from?"

"Well...his address was Stonewell Orphanage..." Dumbledor heard a choking sound from the back of the room. His eyes met Professor Quirrel.

"Is there a problem, Quireness?"

"N-no, Head-mas-s-ster." Dumbledor eyed him critically before turning back to Charity.

"Good, please go on Charity."

"Well, he was pleasant enough. I didn't take him to Diagon Alley. He wanted to go himself. He was quite adement about it."

"I see. Well, I would like you all to keep an eye on him and report back to me what you think. This meeting is adjourned. Severus, Minerva, and Charity stay please."

After the rest of the staff left Dumbledor turned to the remaining staff.

"Charity, can you put your memory in the pensive and we will all view it."

"Headmaster, if I may ask, what is so important about an eleven year old 'muggleborn'. What do you think he's going to do? Blow up the school?" Snape sneered. Dumbledor looked grave.

"That is exactly what I want to prevent. I will explain all to you. Now I will watch this memory."

Dumbledor went into the pensive and came out a couple minutes later shakily pale.

"Albus?" Minerva asked.

"I'm OK. Just.....I want you to look at something. Now what you see does not leave this room."

He pulled a memory out of his head and put it in the pensive along with the one that was already in there.

"The first memory is of a young man that went to school here almost fifty years ago." They all watched it in silence. Afterwards they all looked at each other.

"Now, this is the memory that Charity has kindly given me to watch." They all watched as Dumbledor again projected the image up on the wall.

_Charity walked up the walkway of the same orphanage that they just seen only even more run down. She knocked on the door. And a lady in her fifties answered._

"_Good Afternoon." Charity said. The woman looked like she didn't know what to say._

"_My name is Charity Burbage. I came here to see about a child that resides here. I would have requested an appointment, but I really didn't have the time."_

_The woman stared at her for a moment longer before stepping aside and letting her in._

"_Follow me, We can talk in my office."_

_They walked into the same office that they had seen in the memory before. They sat down in opposite seats from each other_

"_I am her to discuss Timothy Riddle's education. He has a place at our school and we would like to see him placed there."_

"_How? I don't' remember him applying for any school."_

"_Well, his name has been down since he was born."_

"_Who registered him? His parents? He was left on our doorstep, why would they register him if they didn't want him?"_

_Charity took a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to her. The lady's eyes went blank then she handed the paper back to her._

"_Everything seems in place, by the way call me Martha."_

"_Very well, Martha. Can you tell me anything of Timothy's history? You said he was left on your doorstep."_

"_That's right. I remember it clear as day. Mrs. Cole was about 80 something and was getting on in her years. I always got up early to help her with the children's breakfast. I came down and she looked like she had seen a ghost. She had found him on the doorstep when she went out for the milk. When I looked at him, It was like I was transported forty years in the past. He looked so much like another young child that was here. It was his eyes. They held so much intelligence for someone so young. He just had this aura about him. It's like he's looking in your soul. We named him after the young man that was here. Well, in a way. We figured they 'must' be related to look so much like him."_

"_So, no family or anything has ever come looking for him?"_

"_No. We thought the boy's father or something might. The young man that we had here always seemed like he wanted a family. It seemed rather silly that he would abandon his son."_

_Martha looked out the window then back to Charity. "He's an odd boy."_

"_Odd?"_

"_He was a funny baby too. He never cried. And then when he got older... he was...odd."_

"_Odd how?"_

_Martha looked at her sharply, "You say he has a place in your school?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Nothing I can say will change that?"_

"_No."_

"_He scares the children."Martha said bluntly._

"_You mean he bullies them?" Charity said. She looked a little hesitant._

"_Well, I don't know. I mean, he's always so quiet. You never catch him doing anything wrong. But there was an incident about a year ago....Tim said he didn't do anything, and he wasn't near Joeseff at the time. He was all the way on the other side of the room. But....Joeseff didn't fall out the window by himself. There are bars on the windows to prevent that. But it seemed like the bars just....disappeared. Joeseff was in a coma for a month. He's never been right since."_

"_I see."_

"_Would you like to see him? I mean, if he's to be going to this school of yours."_

"_Yes, please."_

_They came to a room and inside a boy with dark hair, and pale skin. He looked like the boy in the previous memory. _

_Charity explained who she was and what magic was. Tim listened patiently. Then said, "Magic."_

The past almost echoed the present. All the staff was very pale.

"_Yes." Charity said._

"_Magic...That's what I can do."_

"_What is it you can do?"_

Minerva looked to Albus and grabbed his arm to support herself.

_Timothy looked up with excitement in his eyes, "All sorts. I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want too." Timothy paused for a moment and seemed to be talking to himself now. "I knew I was different. I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something."_

"_Well, you were right. You are a wizard." Charity said._

"_So, are you coming to Hogwarts?"_

"_Yes. Of course."_

_Charity stood up and handed him an envelope. "Everything you need to know is in there. I'll see you on the first." She turned away and got to the door when a voice rang out._

"_Ma'am?"_

_Charity turned to the boy. "Yes?"_

"_I can talk to snakes too. They come to me, find me. They whisper things to me. Is that normal for a wizard?"_

_Charity looked at the boy in shock. She whispered, "No. No, it's not. It's a very rare....gift."_

_Timothy smiled, "Good."_

The memory faded out and everyone was left there shaking.

"My god." Minerva whispered. "He's like a miniature Tom Riddle. Oh my God. Albus..... two of them? What are we going to do? I remember him in school. That girl died. No one could prove anything. That boy is almost exactly the spitting image of him. He even acts like him. If _He_ comes back and gets his hands on this boy, the world as we know it will never exist again."

"I know. We have to do everything in our power to stop it."

"Headmaster, who is Tom Riddle. I feel like I should know that name." Charity asked.

Dumbledor looked very grave. "He goes by the name Voldemort now."

She gasped.

"He had a child? Was he even human enough to procreate?"

"I hope not Minerva and I hope this is all one big coincidence, but alas, I don't believe in coincidences. So, lets hope we find Harry Potter soon, or as Minerva said, the world as we know it will never exist again."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Timothy sat down at the breakfast table and put some eggs and bacon on his plate and before he could take a bite he seen a shadow in front of him which means someone was behind him. He turned his head and craned his neck back to see a very tall and imposing man. Composing himself he turned around to face the man.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"Yes, the headmaster would like a word with you after your classes today. Here's your schedule."

Timothy took the schedule and glanced at it then back up to who he assumed must be his head of house. "Thank you, sir."

Then he turned back around and proceeded to eat his breakfast. He wondered why the Headmaster wanted to speak to him. He just got there, it's not like he did anything wrong. The blond boy from the night before looked over at him.

"What do you have first?"

"Transfiguration."

"Me too. By the way my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He stuck out his hand. Tim looked at it for a minute, then took it.

"Riddle, Timothy Riddle. As I said last night." He released the hand and grabbed his bag and left the great hall oblivious to four pairs of eyes watching him as he left. Three pair watching in fear and one pair watching with increasing interest.

Timothy sat in the front of the class and waited for the rest of the class to get there. The Malfoy boy sat next to him and pulled out his wand and book. Timothy pulled out his wand also. He gripped the handle, feeling the power flowing through him into his wand. As if it was a part of him. He remembered when he got the wand.

_Timothy opened the door to Olivanders and looked around. The place was so dusty, it was amazing the person that lived there was still alive. He extended his senses and sensed someone in the corner behind him. He turned and looked into the corner and a man with wild white hair stepped out looking surprised._

"_Only a few people have been able to find me. Now, you are here for a wand, yes?" The man said. Not waiting for an answer he walked into the back and came out with an armful of tiny boxes._

"_Now, which arm is your wand arm?"_

_Timothy held out his right hand. The man waved his wand and a tape measure started flying around him and taking measurements. After a minute or so the man waved his wand again and the tape measure fell to the ground. The man handed him a wand and it didn't even touch his hand before the man snatched it back._

_They spent two hours looking for wands before the man came back with a single box. The man looked over him like he was expecting something._

"_Well, this here is the last one. I was expecting to give it to someone else, but... as you see, you have gone through every other wand. Well, give it a wave."_

_Timothy took the wand and it felt like he was welcoming an old friend home. Sparks flew out the end of the wand. He looked up at the man. He was staring at him again. Timothy just stared back. It seemed to break the man out of his trance._

"_Curious. Very Curious. What did you say your name was?"_

"_I didn't. And it's Riddle. Timothy Riddle. How much do I owe you?"_

_The man looked like he had seen a ghost. Then he shook his head and went over to the counter._

"_11 galleons. I'm sorry for the way I spaced out like that. You see, your wand, is holly and phoenix feather. The phoenix that donated for your wand gave another feather. Just. One. Other. The man who owned the other wand did many evil things. I must say that we should expect great things from you Mr. Riddle. After all He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes. But great non the less."_

Timothy broke out of his thoughts as the cat on the teachers desk jumped off and turned into a person. He felt his jaw drop. He couldn't wait till he was able to go to the library. He had so many things to look up.

The professor handed out matches to everyone.

"Now remember what I just told you about the theory. Try to turn the match into a needle. Try not to worry if you can't get it. Not to many do on their first try."

Timothy looked around the room. There was a bushy hair girl who was waving her wand around and you could see that the match had a silver sheen to it. The red head boy next to her looked like he was trying to glare his into a needle. Timothy let out a snort.

"Is there something you find funny, Mr. Riddle. Let's see you do it." The professor said to him. He nodded his head.

"As you wish, Professor." He said in such a way that you couldn't tell if he was putting you down or giving you respect. But before she could think about it he waved his wand and pointed it at the match and it quickly turned into a perfect needle. The professors jaw dropped and she stared at him for a minute before clearing her throat.

"Very good. Two points to Slytherin." She then turned on her heel back to the Gryffindor side.

"That was brilliant. How did you do that?" Draco whispered.

"It was easy. You just have to believe that it will happen and it will. You can't doubt yourself. You have to believe that what ever you want to happen will."

At the end of the lesson, Timothy could see the professor still glaring at him. He sighed. He thought he might actually have fun in the class. Timothy, Draco, and the two big oafs that Draco insisted on following them around walked to the defense class. Timothy and Draco again sat in the front. The teacher stood in the front and took a survey of the class. His eyes landed on Timothy. Timothy looked back and he could swear that the Professors eyes flashed red for a moment. The Professor turned away and started to teach about vampires. Going on about how they were all evil. By the time the class was over and it was time for lunch, Timothy had a raging headache. He didn't know if it was from the Professors fake stutter, the smell of moldy garlic, or the weird way his eyes would flash red when he looked at him.

Tim sat down and piled his plate with sandwiches and pudding. He snuck a roast beef sandwich inside his robe and felt a tongue flick across his hand in thanks. After lunch he headed up to where he was told the Headmaster's office was. It was a Friday and he had no other classes that day.

He came to the statue and stared at it. He didn't know the password. He turned to leave when a silky voice rang out.

"Cockroach Clusters."

Tim turned around and seen his head of house standing behind him. Tim gave him a polite nod and stepped on the staircase. When the stairs stopped moving he stepped forward and raised his hand to knock.

"Enter, Mr. Riddle, Severus."

Tim stood there for a moment before he got his bearings and opened the door. Whatever he was expecting, this was not it. There were whirling shiny gizmo's all over the room. It was amazing. His eyes settled on the Headmaster.

"Please take a seat Mr. Riddle. Now I asked you here to see what you can tell me about yourself. It's not every year that we get an orphan here at the school. It's been about 50 years since the last boy."

Tim's ears perked up. The hat said something about him being like that boy 50 years ago. Maybe he was a relative?

"Well, what do you want to know? I don't know much about before I came to the orphanage, it's all a bit blurry. Martha said I was only 2 when I showed up."

"Well, what do you know about your parents?"

"Nothing, Sir. Mrs. Cole, when she was there, told me that I most likely related to a boy who lived there before. She said I look just like him. Martha said he went to a special school too. Do you know if he went here?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment before nodding, "He did. I was the one who went and introduced him to our world."

Tim leaned forward eagerly in his seat. This was it. He was finally going to have some answers. "What happened? What was he like? Did he ever find out who his parents were? Is he still alive?" The questions rolled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He quickly realized what he did and he put his mask of indifference back on.

Dumbledore chuckled. This boy was still only an eleven year old. If he wanted to know about someone who he could be related to, what could it hurt? It's not like he would know that the man called Tom Riddle was Voldemort. Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked off in the distance.

"His name was Thomas Marvolo Riddle. You look just like him. He was very excited to find out he was magical. We all thought he was muggleborn, but then he ended up in Slytherin. The first couple years here, he spent most of his time in the library looking up his family history. He found out his father was a muggle and his mother was a witch from a very old family. His mother's family could trace their history past the founders of this school. His mother was named Merope Guant, and his father Thomas Riddle. He was a Prefect and a Head Boy. I'm not sure what he did after he left school. He was a very charismatic young man. There were rumors that he worked at Borgin and Burkes. There were also rumors that he went traveling abroad. As to what happened to him. No one knows. Some say he's dead, other's say he is just wondering abroad learning as much as he could."

Timothy sat for a moment. So this relative of his did nothing with his life. If he was from such a powerful family, he could have gone far in his life. Then he scrunched up his face.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Riddle?" Dumbledore wondered what was on the boys mind.

"His father was a _muggle_." Tim sneered. Stupid muggles thinking they are better than everyone else. He would show them.

"Mr. Riddle, there is nothing wrong with muggles. Is there a reason you think so?" Dumbledore asked. He watched as the boys face looked like it was set in stone. No emotion showed. This boys good. Just like another boy.

"No, Sir."

"So, you know nothing from before you were at the orphanage?"

"I remember green light, and a woman screaming. That's all. I don't even know my real name. Now, if that is all, I would like to go get some studying done."

"That's fine, Mr. Riddle."

Timothy nodded and left and headed straight for the library. He headed for the archives and looked up students from 50 years ago. He came to the R's and skimmed the pictures. There in Slytherin robes and a head boy badge was an older version of himself. Oh, there were differences. The boy in the picture looked like he had a ring of red around his emerald green eyes. His hair was a bit neater. And he held himself with a poise that looked quite intimidating. Tim could see it. This boy, must be related to him.

He closed the book and went in search for family histories. He was just about ready to give up when he seen a black book tucked into a dark corner. He pulled it down and looked at the title. At first glance it looked like gibberish. Then before his eye's the letters rearranged themselves. _The Slytherin Legacy _was written on the front. Tim brought the book over to a empty corner and put his bag on the table. He sat down and started to read.

At first it talked about opening the school. Then it started going into the disagreements between Salazar and Godric. On the last page it went into detail how Salazar had built a chamber hidden from everyone, only to be opened by his heirs.

Tim closed the book and pulled out his copy of _Hogwarts, A History._ He turned and read about how the chamber was never found. Just when he was going to close the book his eye's fell on one paragraph.

_Not much was known about Salazar Slytherin, but it was recorded that he was a Parselmouth. The ability to speak to snakes. The trait was apparently passed down his line, so all the heirs would have the ability. The last known speaker was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It is also rumored that he must have been related to the Gaunts somehow, for they were the last known direct descendant to Salazar Slytherin himself._

Timothy sat there breathing hard and staring at the book. Thoughts were running through his head. Slytherin was a known parselmouth. So was he. Then so was You-Know-Who. Who ever that is. If Tom Riddle was related to the Gaunts, and they were alive in You-Know-Who's time then could they be related? Timothy pulled out a notebook and wrote out on the top.

**Tom Marvolo Riddle.**

He sat back and stared at it. A light bulb clicked in his head and he started to rearrange the letters.

**I am Lord Voldemort**

"Well, holy hell." He whispered. He was so caught up in the amazing thing he just discovered he didn't see the shadow come up behind him.

"D-d-d-doing r-r-r-res-ss-earch, Mr. Riddle?"

Tim swirled around and had his wand out and pointed at the person behind him. He noticed it was his Defense Professor and lowered his wand. He was a little put out by the look of amusement on his face. Timothy put his paper in his book and shoved it in his bag.

"Just some family research, sir. Is there anything I can help you with? If not, I really should be back in my common room before curfew."

"That's an interesting theory you have there. Would you mind telling me how you came up with it?" Professor Quirrel asked.

Tim was almost too gobsmacked to not notice that the Professor had all of a sudden lost his studder. Tim opened his mouth to say something when the eyes of his Professor again flashed red. Tim sucked in a breath and he had a flash back of the picture of a young Tom Riddle with a red ring around his eyes.

Timothy narrowed his eyes and said, "I don't think it is a theory at all, _Professor._ If Tom Riddle was anything like me, he would have wanted to shed all things muggle and get rid of his _muggle_ father's name. I am suspected of being related to him so I thought I would do a little research. The more I find out, the more I believe it's true. Beside the resemblance, there are _other_ qualities that we share. Now, I must get going, _Professor_, before I am late."

Timothy left and went straight to his common room wondering what he was going to do with this new information. If this Voldemort was You-Know-Who was Tom Riddle, and he believed it was then why was his professor interested? What really happened to Voldemort? Was he dead? Were they related? And last but not least, who the hell was Quirrel _really?_

* * *

**Ha, Voldemort made contact. Sorta. How's that? I know it's taking along time for me to get this posted, but I have alot of stories running through my head right now and I'm trying to get them all down before I forget. Some stories like this one is getting put on the back burner and I just work on it when I'm bored and burned out from my other stories. Now, if you please, reveiw, reveiw, reveiw.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Since the next day was a Saturday, Tim decided to skip lunch and spend the day in the library. He had about 20 books laid out in front of him. He was referencing and cross referencing. He kept feeling someone stare at him, but whenever he would look up, he wouldn't see anyone noticeable. He shook his head and looked at his parchment.

**Slytherin Line**

The books were right. The Gaunts were the last known direct descendant. But he kept seeing this symbol. It was like a coat of arms. It was said that it was the Peverell Coat. Tim leaned back. Where had he seen that before? He shook his head and filed it for later. He then pulled out some more books and another piece of parchment that had notes scribbled on them.

What he was now researching was the Chamber of Secrets. If he was indeed the heir, then it was his birth right to find this place. He kept reading over and over in numerous books about a monster hidden within that only the heir could control. As he was going over what it could be, he felt Amica move.

Tim froze. He then jumped up and raced to the Dark Creatures section. Bringing the book back to his table he didn't even bother sitting. He turned the pages swiftly murmuring under his breath.

"Snakes. It has to be some kind of snake. It would make sense."

Then he found it.

**Basilisk**

_**Of the serpents. The basilisk is the most deadly of them. It can kill by just one look in their eyes. They can live for thousands of years and grow up to a hundred feet. Not much is known about them for they are nearly extinct and no one is willing to get close enough to one to study it. The last known basilisk was known to be a pet of Salazar Slytherin. The only thing known is spiders flee from it. The basilisk has one known weakness. The cry of a rooster is deadly to it's sensitive ears.**_

There was a basilisk in the Chamber. He plopped down in his seat and mindlessly caressed the picture of the hand-drawn basilisk. It was so beautiful. If the thing was still alive, it would be over 1000 years old. Think of the size! To be able to control something so big, so deadly. The power it would give him. Those kids at the orphanage wouldn't dare mess with him then. He jumped up. He must find it. Even if it took him all year.

Indeed, he did spend the next couple months searching. But he never found anything that he would say looked like it would lead to a chamber. By Halloween, he was going out of his mind. Where was that damn thing. He skipped the feast in favor of exploring. He was in an empty classroom on the third floor, when he heard it.

It sounded like a dying hippo. One of the ones that he had seen on one of the trips to the zoo. He peaked out of the door in time to see a giant mammoth of something go into what he thought to be the girls bathroom. Then he heard a scream and he slammed the door shut. He leaned against it. There was no way in the seven circles of hell he was going out there. He was not going to risk his life for anyone. He heard a scream again and then a crash. He found his hand inching towards the handle of the door. He pulled it back like he was burned. No. What the hell was he thinking? He backed away to a corner of the room making himself hidden. He was not going out there. After about 5 minutes, he heard pounding footsteps, yelling, then silence.

He waited another minute or two just in case before peaking his head out the door. The first person he seen was Professor Quirrel leaning up against the wall in the hallway looking very pale. He straightened right up when he saw Tim. Tim creeped out of the classroom and walked over to the bathroom door and looked in.

Blood. That's all he saw. There was blood everywhere. He shook his head. Stupid girl. If she didn't realize that she had a wand then she didn't deserve to live. He looked back to see Quirrel looking at him strangely.

"Mr. Riddle, what are you doing here? You should be in your common room finishing the feast. Why are you here?" Professor McGonagall was standing in front of him. By looks of sheer will power it seemed. Her face had a green tinge to it.

"I didn't go to the feast, Ma'am. I was exploring. I heard screams and came to investigate when it seemed safe."

Her face pinched. She looked like she would like to strangle him with her bare hands.

"You heard screams and you didn't go get a Professor? You let some innocent girl die! You let another student be maimed!"

"With, all due res-s-s-spect, Minerva. He is-s-s a S-s-s-slytherin. S-s-s-s-self-pres-s-s-s-servat-t-tion firs-s-s-st." Professor Quirrel said. Both Tim and McGonagall looked at him. He had never stood up for a student before.

Then his Head of House came out and looked at him. "I agree with Quirrel. What good would it have done for him to have come in here. We would have more gore to clean up. Better one _muggleborn_, than have a bunch of parents coming here demanding the school's closure." He looked and gave Tim a look. Then said, "Come, Mr. Riddle. Let's get you back to your common rooms."

Later on in an emergency staff meeting there was defiantly some arguments over Mr. Riddle.

"Honestly, Albus. I don't know why you insist on defending the boy. He's a menace. He probably let that troll in himself."

"Now, Minerva. Where would a first year find a Mountain Troll. I doubt that he even knows what one is."

"Well, he does now!" Her voice went up shrilly. "He's not _just_ a first year! He's _his _spawn! He didn't even blink when he saw the aftermath. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it!"

"Minerva, stop, now."

Then there was silence. Dumbledore took in the faces of his staff. They all looked pale. The last time they had a death in the school was 50 years ago, when the last Riddle went to school here. He leaned back in his chair and popped a lemon drop in his mouth. He sighed.

"The girls parents will be notified tomorrow. The Weasley's parents were notified earlier today and they met up with their son at St. Mungo's. Finnegan's mother was also notified of his injuries. There was no way to prevent this death. Mr. Riddle had no involvement with it. He was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, any more to discuss?"

No one said anything. Dumbledore nodded. "Very well, I will make an announcement tomorrow morning to the rest of the student body."

They all filed out silently. When they were all gone, Dumbledore sat back in his chair again. He put his hands over his face and let out a shakey breath.

"Please, not again. Don't let me make the same mistake again."

He prayed to all the Gods that he could think of. Hoping that one of them would hear his plea and answer it. Unfortunately, no one did.

That night Tim slept like a baby. Well, not really. He slept like a log. It was one of the best sleeps he had ever gotten. He woke up with a grin on his face. Something about all that blood. It was energizing. He could only imagine if he was actually the one to do that. To feel the life blood of another human being. To be in control of another's life. The power. He couldn't stop thinking about it as he sat down at the table for breakfast. His table was the only one that was actually eating.

As he was finished with his eggs, Dumbledore rose and raised his arms for silence.

"Last night as you all know, a troll got loose in the school. There was an unfortunate death and a couple injuries as a result. Anyone with any information about how the troll got in the school, please let one of the teacher's know. The ministry will be making an investigation in the events that occurred here last night. Classes will be canceled for the rest of the week. They will resume as normal on Monday."

Tim couldn't be happier. He would have more time to research and look for that stupid chamber. He got up quickly and went straight to the library. He pulled several advanced books off the shelf. He walked over to a section that was roped off and peared down there. It was dark and gloomy. Perfect for him. He would have to sneak back here later at night. He settled down for a day of research.

At the end of the day, he was no closer. He was about to go room to room, floor to floor and start hissing in every room. He sighed and left the library. He wondered the halls for a bit before turning back and heading to his common room. He was passing the Defense room when he heard a voice. It sent shivers up his back, and excited him at the same time. He peaked in the crack in the door to see Professor Quirrel standing in front of a mirror. What was that fool doing? He listened closer and could hear two voices.

"Have you found what guards it yet?"

"N-n-no, M-m-m-master. J-j-j-just the d-d-d-og and t-t-t-troll."

"What are you waiting for? Start asking around. That troll was a stupid idea, though that is one less mudblood in the world. And Riddle......that boy fascinates me. He reminds me so much of myself at that age. I want you to teach him. Ask him if he wants private lessons. I want to get to know him better."

"Y-y-y-yesss, M-m-m-master."

Tim backed up slowly and headed down to his common room. Master? Why didn't he like the sound of that. How were there two voices and only one person? Can a person make themselves invisible? He would have to look that up. But that voice......it almost sounded familer. Like he heard it before.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice he was on the second floor at the opposite end of the school from the Slytherin dorms. He _did_ however notice that there were a group of Gryffindor fifth years standing in the hall. He gulped. This was not going to turn out good.

"Oh, look, a little slimy snake firstie. What do you say we put him in his place before he decides to kill us all?" One of the boys said.

Tim started to back away and eyed a door to his left. He quickly ducked in it and locked the door with the most complex locking charm he knew. He had looked up several ones for his trunk. The boys pounded on the door and Tim inched his way back into the room. He looked around for the first time and swore in Parseltongue.

"_Master? Are you alright?"_

"_No, I'm not alright. Why is it the first **open** door I see is a girls bathroom?"_

Tim jumped when he heard a rumbling. He looked towards the middle of the room where the sinks were. They were opening up.

"You've got to be kidding me. All this time. It was in a _bathroom_?" He whispered to himself. He walked over to the hole and peered down it. It was pitch black. He scrunched up his face. There was no way he was going down there till he knew more spells to defend himself. He backed up and looked at the sinks. He examined one of them and seen a snake engraving on it.

"_Close"_ Tim hissed. The opening closed. Tim grinned perfect. He would come investigate in a couple days. He now had a place to practice so he didn't get jumped again. Granted he could do wandless magic, and defend against muggles, but these were wizards. Ones who knew lots of spells. He would have to sneak out tonight and try to get into the restricted section.

Yes, that's what he'd do. He would show them. He wasn't powerless. He was the Heir of Slytherin. Yes, people would learn to respect him. They would learn, even if they feared him, that would mean they respected what he would do to them. They would learn.

* * *

**Sorry so short. I figured you guys wanted the next chapter soon. Any ideas on what to do next? I'm going to have Quirrel tutor him in the Dark Arts. Harry is also going to be learning on his own in the Chamber. I am trying to keep to the book as much as possible, so the Chamber won't be opened up till next year. So, review and let me know how I'm doing. **


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